Muggle Week
by jennaamariee
Summary: Summary: When a prank is pulled by none other than Draco Malfoy, they are forced to work together during Muggle Week; a chance fore the Purebloods tolearn the ways of the Muggles. D/HR pairing.
1. Baby, you're a firework

**[so, this is my first post, and i hope you like it! uhm, i don't know if i'm supposed to write up here, but whatever. (: i already have the first couple chapters written, and yeah... so, review please! tell me if i need to work on anything!]**

**disclaimer: i, unfortunately, do not own Harry Potter, the series itself or any of it's inhabitants. i am not claiming to own the series or any of the characters. i am merely using them to improve my writing and creativity. i only own the plot of this story, which i wrote myself. (:**

It was Muggle Week at Hogwarts. Students swarmed through the halls, buzzing about with who and where they would be living for the next seven days. Muggle Week was a particularly new event at Hogwarts, and it happened once every year. Purebloods were to live with someone Muggle-born or even someone who was friends with a Muggle to get the full experience of what the non-magic folk were like.

Professor McGonagall had been the one to start up the new annual field trip. She said that it would bring us closer to the Muggles, and maybe even start to understand how tough their lives were without magic. ...Not that they knew it was that tough, for they had nothing to compare it to.

99.8% of the school was looking forward to living in their new homes surrounded with new foods, technologies and people. The other two percent however, were not so excited. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger sat brooding on opposite sides of the Hogwarts Express train compartment, which was on its way to London where Draco would be living with Ms. Granger herself for the next 168 hours.

"This is your entire fault," snapped Hermione. Her brown curly hair was escaping the messy bun atop her head, making her look like a disgruntled Professor McGonagall.

"My fault?" Draco exclaimed. "How could this be my fault? You were the one to set off the first hex!" he said, referring to earlier events.

"You called me a raging, filthy Mudblood!" she exploded. "Tell me, dear sweet Draco, how do you call someone a raging, filthy Mudblood, and _not_ get hexed?" He had no snappy retort for that. She was right of course, but he would never admit it. He turned his stony glare back to the window and watched as the scenery whizzed by. Unwillingly, his thoughts turned to the very fight that had gotten them into this predicament.

"What a git," mumbled Ron. "Who goes around on a broom setting off fireworks at every studying student he can find? I mean really, who was the time for that?" he asked Harry as they sauntered through the Gryffindor common room, ignoring all the stares he was getting from his fellow mates.

Ever since Harry banished He Who Must Not Be Named, he had practically become famous; and rightfully so. Apparently, though, McGonagall saw fit to make them re-do their last year at Hogwarts to make up for the missing time they had spent away whilst saving the wizarding world. Such a Hermione move, Harry had thought.

Hermione. Oh no, no, no, no! Harry stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Ron's arm, bringing him to a halt, too.

"Where did Hermione say she was going?" Harry asked his best friend.

"To the courtyard...?" Ron was helplessly confused.

"To do what?" Harry prompted. It took a few seconds before Ron gasped in realization and with wide-eyes started to book it to the courtyard, followed closely by Harry. They got there just in time to see Hermione with her headphones in her ears and several different books laid out in front of her, untouched by fireworks. They sighed in relief too soon.

Malfoy swooped down and tossed the fireworks in her direction. She hadn't noticed that the firework had landed in her ink jar, thanks to the fact that her head was deep in a book and her music was blasted loud enough that she couldn't hear anything well enough to care.

Harry and Ron just watched, too shocked to say anything as the explosion went off. Ink and glass shards flew in every direction hitting everyone within a 10 foot radius, including a raging Malfoy. Hermione raised her eyebrows and kept them there as she calmly laid down her book and iPod. She stood gracefully as if nothing had happened. Her eyebrows still raised, she gave him a small smile and pulled out her wand. She waved it around and muttered a few words under her breath in Draco's direction.

He sat hovering in mid-air, anticipating her next move. For a few seconds nothing happened. Then everyone within hearing range started to become aware of a strange whistling sound. In the distance Ron spotted what looked like to be a large black cloud. As it neared, they realised that it wasn't a cloud, but at least three hundred ink bottles settling collectively over Draco _like_ a menacing storm cloud.

With a flick of her wrist, all the bottles tipped over simultaneously sending jets of ebony ink onto Draco's fine-haired head. His jaw dropped and he instantly regretted it. Ink flew into his mouth and down his throat, erasing all other tastes and replacing it with one like spoiled milk.

When all the bottles had been emptied of their contents, he noticed that Granger was walking calmly in the direction of the school. He was so furious that he was completely oblivious to the cheering around him.

"Brilliant," said Ron in admiration. "Just bloody brilliant,"

Close enough to be heard by Granger, he yelled "You raging, filthy little Mudblood!" He raised a shaking hand that had once been a beautiful cream color, but was now masked by the ink.

She turned slowly, her face a mask of calm, not at all surprised by the wand in Malfoy's hands. She raised her own wand in return. He was not at all fooled by the mask that she wore on her face. Years of taunting her had taught him that with a push of the right buttons, she would explode. She was nearing that explosion now.

"_Steleus!_" He yelled, aiming his wand at the bushy-haired girl before him.

It worked. Hermione started sneezing uncontrollably. Thinking he was about to win the battle, he raised his wand again ready to cast the next hex when she yelled "_Locomotor Mortis!_" before sneezing again. He cursed violently as his legs snapped together, sending him face first into the ground. He felt a crunch as his nose broke.

Luckily she hadn't used the full body-binding curse or else he would be screwed over. He raised his wand just high enough and whispered the word "_Incarcerous_," and grinned in self-satisfaction as the girl fell to the ground thanks to the thick ropes that were now twining around her body.

"You little son of a—" she started to say but was interrupted by a _tsk-tsk_ sound that came from behind them. They both twisted awkwardly to get a better look at the speaker and saw Professor Snatch looking down at them bemusedly. Snatch was the man who replaced Snape after the war. He was the new head of Slytherin. It was rather scary how they similar they were.

_Yes,_ Draco thought._ Home free. Little Mudblood won't know what hit her._ Snatch preformed the counter-curses and grabbed both of them by the backs of their robes and continued to push them into the school. Draco was confused by Snatch's actions. Shouldn't he have already punished Hermione and let him free?

After what seemed like forever, they found themselves sitting in the infirmary. Snatch forced them roughly so they were facing him. He looked both of them straight in the eye and said, "Now you little twerps better listen to me carefully." He growled. "Madame Pomfrey is out on a personal call and we have acquired a substitute for now. He isn't as skilled, but he'll do." He pointed to Draco. "Pomfrey would've gotten your nose straightened out" he pointed to Hermione now. "And the glass out of you in no time. This man will take almost 3 times as long, but you can consider it part of your punishment."

Draco grunted while Hermione say silently looking at her feet. Even now she still wasn't used to being reprimanded by teachers. He raised his hand mockingly, not waiting to be called on. "So what's the other part of our punishment, _sir?_" He put extra emphasis on the last word. Snatch barely seemed to notice. He was grinning like a fool.

"Hermione, you're Muggle-born, are you not?" asked the professor.

"Yes..." she replied warily, wondering what he was getting at.

He clapped delightedly. "How wondrous! Draco, meet your new Muggle Week partner! You two will be spending the next week with each other!" he told them in his falsely-sweet voice. "In the meantime, maybe the two of you can work out whatever problems you may have." He said the last part in his usual tone before turning and walking out the door laughing quietly.

Granger and Malfoy sat dumfounded on their separate beds for what seemed like years before the substitute care-taker arrived. He was a scrawny little man with glasses three times larger than necessary. His hands shook with old age and his grey hair was combed back to cover the bald patch on his head.

Despite his less then desirable looks, he was a kind man. He got the glass bits that had been embedded in her skin _and_ fixed Draco's nose in a matter of hours. But even after she was all patched up, she couldn't help but feel a horror growing within her. She figured that it probably had to do with the pallor boy sitting mere metres beside her.

Something hit Draco's arm with a dull thud. It was a library book. He looked up to find the thrower and found himself looking into the fine boned face of Hermione Granger.

"You coming are not?" she demanded before turning around. She groaned inwardly. A week with this dope? Yeah, right. Before he had a chance to respond, he stood up quickly earning himself a smack on the head on the top of the metal compartment. Gathering his things was easy. Before they had left, he had made a point of getting everything organized and ready for departure before the train even started moving.

He stepped off the great scarlet train and was surprised to see the station flooded with Muggles and wizards alike. Although, the Muggles didn't know they were Muggles of course. He thanked Merlin for his tall build as he spotted Granger's unkempt bun within the crowd.

He dodged through the people and finally made his way beside her, slightly out of breath.

"Thanks for waiting," he spat sarcastically.

"Darn," she said back just as sarcastic. "And I was so hoping you would get lost."

He grunted. This was going to be torture.

Hermione kicked open her pristine, white wooden door with a flat-clad foot. The door swung open soundlessly and greeted them into her sunny home. The first thing Draco saw was the kitchen. Cupboards, floors and fridge were all white while the walls were painted a tasteful light yellow color. A wide window sat above the sink, allowing the last rays of sunlight to pour in. Over to the left sat a dark wood round table with four matching chairs set around it.

Hermione made an impatient noise and walked into the next room in hopes that he would follow. Soon enough, he did follow her into the living room. A fireplace sat in the corner with rows of Muggle pictures and other sort of knick-knacks. Cream colored couches seemed to blend in with the matching carpet that barely covered the dark hardwood floors. A small coffee table made out of the same wood sat on the very rug.

"What's that?" he asked aloud, gesturing to the strange looking black box in the opposite corner of the fireplace. She sighed heavily.

"That's a television, Malfoy. Surely you've seen one before?"

He shook his head but she didn't see.

None of the other rooms really stood out to him. All he knew was that there were two levels; the bottom level which held the living room, kitchen and a small room what looked to be a library, and the top level which he assumed was meant for bedrooms.

He continued to follow her upstairs past a bathroom and a light grey-purple room which he guessed to be Hermione's. Passing a closed door, she led him into a simple room. It held a double bed with a white comforter that contrasted nicely with the dark wood bed frame. A small bedside table sat beside it, holding a lamp and a few magazines. His favourite part of the room was the window. It showed out over London giving him a good view of the city's nightlife.

She cleared her throat, breaking him out of his reverie. He turned to her with an irritated expression. "Yes?"

"Well, this is your room." She made a vague hand gesture as she stated the obvious. "There are two bathrooms in the house; both of which I showed you. I'm assuming you brought toiletries and such, but if not my dad has some stuff that you could borrow. My parents wanted me to tell you to feel at home at all times, and..." she thought for a while. "That's it, I guess."

He nodded. "Where are your parents, exactly?" He wondered. They obviously didn't know him very well if they trusted him—the Slytherin—with their daughter—the Gryffindor—alone and unaccompanied.

She made a dismissive gesture. This girl was into hand movements, thought Draco. "Out at a dentist's convention in Ireland. Won't be back until your last day, so lucky you! You get to spend as little as possible time with Muggles." She said in a mock-excited tone. "Unless of course you wanted to see some Muggle things..." she trailed off, noticing that her earlier words had been a bit sharp. It wasn't iall/i him, really. Just mostly.

"I wouldn't mind," mumbled Draco quietly. She was shocked. She didn't think it was possible for him to be quiet... at all.

"Oh. Okay, well, uh... We'll go out tomorrow, then," she decided. "Oh, wait, no, I mean—" she started to explain but Malfoy cut her off with a hand gesture.

He half closed his eyes and nodded. "I got it," he told her.

Her face was warm. "Yeah, well... good. See you tomorrow then. Just holler if you need anything," she added before leaving the room. Draco stood there for a good ten minutes before crawling into the stranger's bed. It wasn't a huge house like he was used to, but it was comforting and warm, unlike the Malfoy Manor he was used to, but he like it. He liked it a lot.

He awoke the next morning feeling awake and rejuvenated. He threw on his green Slytherin hoodie and padded down the stairs to find himself watching Hermione dance and sing around the kitchen, preparing what looked like pancakes. He watched her with an amused expression for a solid two minutes before she realised he was there.

She jumped when she spotted him, sending the spoon she was holding clattering to the floor. She bent to retrieve the spoon and he noticed the red iPod sticking out of her hip pocket. Her hair was damp and even from the stairs, he could smell the raspberry scent radiating off of her.

"Hungry?" she asked with her face still red.

"Depends on what we're eating," he countered carefully, stepping closer to the stove and looking down at the skillet. The object that he thought had been pancakes was unidentifiable. He wrinkled his nose the like spoiled brat she knew him to be.

"Crepes?" she said uncertainly, her defences going up again. If he wasn't going to eat it because _she_ had made it, she was going to kick him out in the streets. See how the Muggles like him then.

He made a face. "Blagh," he said. "Crepes,"

"What's wrong with crepes?" she asked, her defences climbing even higher now. Draco knew her to be violent and the fact that she was wielding a wooden spoon like that made him choose his words carefully. Well, as carefully as he could.

"They're gross?" he told her, the end of his sentence going up as if he'd asked a question. She shrugged it off. "Whatever," she said dismissively. "Your loss," She continued to eat her crepes in peace, until Malfoy cleared his throat. His silver eyes flashed down at her as he raised a delicate brow.

"Yes?"

"What exactly am I having for breakfast?"

"I don't know, actually. Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually not a physic."

He groaned as if he were in agony and dropped his head, letting it hang. She saw a silver scar wink at her as he brought his head back up.

"What is available?" he re-worded.

"Food,"

"Dammit, Granger—"

"Dammit yourself, Malfoy. Ask me politely and maybe I'll answer."

He sighed as if it were a huge chore. "Dearest Granger, what can I _please_ have for breakfast?" he asked with exaggerated patience.

A real smile broke out onto her face now because of her success. "Well..." she trailed as she stood up to wash her dishes. As she ran the water she said, "There's toast, or eggs, or porridge, or you could even go out for breakfast before we head on out for our Muggle adventures, if you'd like." She offered kindly.

"Muggle adventures?"

She nodded.

"Well, I guess we could stop by somewhere on the way to wherever you're taking me." He said.

"Great! So go on upstairs and go get changed. I'll be at the door when you're ready."

"Aren't you going to get changed, too?" he asked seriously, scrutinizing her outfit. She was wearing a baggy pink sweater over jean shorts and light blue Keds to top it off.

"Uhm, I _am_ dressed, Malfoy." She told him.

He was still laughing when they got into the car.

"Can you read me what McGonagall wrote down for requirements?" she asked, indicating the parchment sitting between them on the glove box. Draco picked up the sheet and eyed it with distaste.

"It says that to get at least a ninety out of a hundred, you have to take me to meet two or more Muggles, make me cook a meal with help from Muggle tools, do my laundry without magic, make a phone call, take me to a common Muggle hang-out place, do housework, take a form of public transportation and another item of your choice." He threw down the paper forcefully. "What is this bull-?" Hermione cut him off. "No swearing in my car."

He looked at her incredulously. "Seriously, Granger?"

She held her nose high in the air. "Swearing is unnecessary; therefore you are not allowed to do it within my hearing range." Leaning forward but still keeping her eyes on the road, she turned up the radio. Malfoy started as the music seemed to radiate from every angle in the car.

"What the hell?" Before Hermione could yell at him, Draco explained that hell was a place, not a swear.

"Whatever. And it's called a radio. We even have them at Hogwarts, Draco." She explained impatiently.

"Well, yeah, but they don't play music throughout the entire castle!" He was really confused. Hermione just laughed and continued to sing along to her favourite song. Draco watched as she bobbed in her seat and mouthed the words, making it seem as though she were the one who was singing it.

After the song ended, she turned down the radio back to a quiet level so it was just background noise. He thought he saw a small glint of mischief in her eyes, but ignored it. "Get ready to check off an item from the list, Malfoy." Confused, he just sat there quietly.

They were pulling into a parking lot that had a strange building set to the side. It was no taller than 10 feet, and no longer than one of the carriages on the Hogwarts Express. A line of cars waited outside the strange structure, as if they were waiting their turn.

"Did my car look a little dirty to you, Malfoy?" asked Hermione innocently. Draco recalled admiring her '67 light blue Mustang before hopping into it, but he didn't seem to remember it being dirty. Maybe a bit rusty, yes, but not dirty.

"Not that I recall," he said. He tried to sneak a glance out the window and down the side of the car, but he couldn't do so unless he smooshed his face against the window. Hermione giggled quietly with anticipation as the line moved forward.

She pulled up next to a small box and inserted a few coins into the slot through her open window. A ticket was dispensed out a small opening near the bottom. Now that they were closer, he could see that there were a set of miniature traffic lights next to the opening of the tunnel.

Hermione drove the car into the tunnel and gently braked to a stop. It was eerily quiet. Draco was just about to ask her what she was playing at when a loud _whoosh_ interrupted his thoughts. He jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound of water jets smacking against the car. Hermione could barely drive forward because she was laughing so hard.

The car slid further through the streams of water, and now two blue things were advancing on them. He almost grabbed her arm as the mop-like machines started to spin at a high speed against the metal. Almost. She was laughing so hard now; tears were pouring from her eyes at Draco's terrified and incredulous expression. He didn't know where to look.

Inching forward a little bit further, Draco saw what she was going to do. A black wall was hanging in front of them. Hermione was planning to drive them through the wall!

"Granger!" he yelled as she headed straight for it and—passed through it easily. He swivelled in his seat to get a better look at what had just happened. What he thought to be a wall was just a series of cloth strips made out of the same material as the mops. They had been hung together so close that they gave the illusion of solidity.

She pulled into the parking lot in front of the carwash and just sat there for a good 5 minutes of non-stop laughter and giggles. Finally she regained her composure. She turned to look Draco in the eyes. He was glaring at her silently. Her giggles erupted again. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward as the laughter got the better of her. "I'm sorry, Draco," she told him between fits. "Your face, though..." she trailed off. "I will never forget that," she said.

"And nor will I, thanks to you, I am now scarred for life." He looked pointedly at her hand which was still placed on his shoulder. She removed it quickly, not realising that she had left it there.

She picked up the abandoned parchment and took a pencil out of her purse. "Other..." she murmured as she filled in the spot. "Took... Draco... To... Car wash... He... liked it." She said as she wrote the words on the paper.

Draco grumbled incoherently. "Still hungry?" she asked.

"After that monstrosity? No way,"

"Aaaalrighty then... Anything you're itching to do?"

"Not necessarily, no." He replied dismissively, looking out the window.

For fear of an awkward silence, she turned the radio back up and closed her eyes. Leaning her head against the seat, she started to think of possible things they could do for today. Today... today... What was today?

"Malfoy,"

He turned to face her, his expression bored.

"Do you know what day it is today?" she asked.

"Saturday," He looked at her as if she were stupid.

She glanced at the clock. 10:18; she had twelve minutes to go home, get changed and drive to the restaurant. She didn't have a Muggle job obviously, because how would she get from Hogwarts to work every day? She was covering for a friend of a friend's. "Son of a-" she started to say but Malfoy cut her off. "Ah, ah, Granger; no swearing in the car." He reminded her with a smug smile. She smacked him on the shoulder before turning onto the highway.

Blazing down the highway with Hermione Granger was a frightening experience. Almost as frightening as the car wash, Draco thought. He had never thought Hermione to be a rule breaker, but when something was at stake, she would do almost anything to keep it safe.

Corners were turned at scary angles, and red lights were ignored as if they were mere colors that decorated the highway. She screeched into the driveway causing Malfoy to slam into the dashboard. "Wait here," she commanded before running into the house. He did as she said with a lingering smirk on his face.

Hermione flew up the stairs two at a time and turned into her tidy room. Unable to admire the mural on the east wall of her bedroom, she ripped off her clothes and threw on her uniform shirt and grabbed a fitted black skirt. She yanked a brush threw her tangled curls only causing them to grow twice in size. Giving up, she piled her hair on top of her head in a messy bun. One last glance at herself in the mirror and she was back outside. She could've been at work, ready and on time in a matter of seconds if she had her wand, but this was Muggle week. All wands and magical items were confiscated before departure from Hogwarts. She hopped back into her beloved Mustang and found Draco watching her with a bemused expression.

"You have about 30 seconds to make a decision. You can stay here and entertain yourself for a good five hours, or you can choose to come with me to the restaurant and wait there. If you came to the restaurant, you could fulfill another requirement." She added. "Go,"

"Restaurant," he said simply. She nodded and pulled out of the driveway. Continuing to weave in and out of traffic, Draco took a good look at his hostess. Her curly brown hair was piled atop her head again, and her black uniform contrasted with her pale skin. Not as pale as his, mind you, but pale enough.

"If you're done looking at me, feel free to turn up the radio."

He scoffed. "Why would I want to look at you, Granger?"

"Because I am stunning, obviously." She said, sarcasm dripping off every word.

He laughed out loud. "Funny girl," He turned up the radio anyways. He recognized the song playing. Granger did too, apparently. She gasped in delight and ordered him to turn it up further. He obliged. Little did the members know, Muggle bands played on the radios at school. You didn't hear too much about great singers who were also wizards.

She started swaying in her seat to the rhythm of the music and belted out the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

"_I wanted love, I needed love, most of all, most of all._

_Someone said true love was dead, but I'm bound to fall, bound to fall, for you._

_Oh, what can I do? Yeah, take my badge but my heart remains loving you, baby child._"

He decided sing too, but not nearly as loud as Granger. Neither of them were singers, but Draco was a fan of the song as was Hermione. He took the next part to Hermione's surprise.

"_Tighten up, on your reins, you're runnin' wild, runnin' wild; it's true._"

It was just instruments for the next part so neither of them was singing. Hermione's eyebrows rose to her hairline. She smiled, pleasantly surprised that they were sharing something without bickering or insulting with one another.

Draco returned her smile with a tiny one of his own. He couldn't believe he had done that either, but he had just gotten caught up in the moment. If someone had told him a week ago that he would be singing with Granger in a Muggle car on his way to a Muggle restaurant he would've laughed in their face.

The lyrics started back up and both of them sang the remaining part of the song together.

"_Sick for days, so many ways I'm aching' now, I'm aching' now._

_'S times like these; I need relief please show me how, oh show me how, to get right. Yes, out of sight._

_When I was young, and moving fast, nothing slowed me down, oh slowed me down._

_Now I let the others pass; I've come around, oh come around, 'cause I've found..._"

The music was slowing down now as they started to get within a two mile radius of the restaurant. The song wasn't over yet, but it was nearing the end. They picked it back up with gusto.

"_Livin' just to keep going, going just to be sane, all the while I'm knowin'; such a shame._

_I don't need to get steady; I know just how I feel, tellin' you to be ready, my dear."_

The last final notes ended as they pulled up in the parking lot in front of the restaurant.

"Well that was fun," said Hermione. Draco nodded in abashed agreement. It had been.

"Emanon?" asked Draco. She smirked as she looked up at the neon sign that depicted the locations name. "It's 'no name' spelled backwards. Tony had a tough time coming up with a name, and that's what it ended up as. Obviously," she added hastily.

Before Granger could walk through the glass doors, the tow-headed boy grabbed her arm. "Hey," he said seriously. "If you ever let it slip that I sang with you in that retched car of yours, I might have to kill you. And just because we sang one Black Keys song does not make us friends." He told her.

Any warm feelings she might've had towards Draco vanished. Instead, they were replaced with years of hatred and exasperation. "Whatever."

Smiling to himself, he walked himself into Emanon and was immediately hit with the smell of delicious food. His mouth watered as her followed the bushy-haired girl through tables and tables of Muggles. He turned his eyes away from the tables and back to Hermione. She pulled out a piece of black fabric from her purse. When she shook it out, he saw that it was actually a skirt. He watched as she slid it up over her jeans. She had an odd sense of fashion, but a fitted skirt over jeans was just bizarre. Draco was just about to say something until she continued to remove her Keds and pulled off her jeans from underneath. Then, taking off her polka-dotted socks, she replaced them with red strappy stilettos. She did all of this behind the bar.

"Was that a strip-tease I just witnessed, Granger?" asked Draco incredulously. It sure looked like one. He was rewarded with a flush from her.

"Don't be sick, Malfoy. That's disgusting." She snapped as she tied on her red apron. Her long, slim legs started to walk off in the opposite direction before she remembered. "Oh, and also, to reach another requirement you need to hang out with at least two Muggles. Follow me."

He watched her legs as they walked and then remembered who he was looking at. This was _Granger_ he reminded himself with a slight shudder.

She brought him to a red booth where two girls sat before him. One had long, red hair that vaguely reminded him of the Weaslette. Her big blue eyes sparked when she caught sight of him. The other had short black hair that hung straight just brushing her collarbone. The dark haired girl eyed him with her emerald eyes while Hermione introduced them. Hermione wasn't really friends with the girls, but she had hung out with them three or four times when she was bored and needed some company. She had met them through an old friend some time ago.

"Christina," she gestured to the dark haired girl, "and Alicia," she indicated the red-head now, "Meet Mal—I mean Draco." She corrected.

"Hello," purred Alicia. She held out a finely manicured hand and he took it in his own. "Nice to meet you,"

"You too," he said somewhat shortly. He released his grasp from hers as quickly as possible without being rude. He was a Malfoy; he was raised to have proper respect for all ladies and strangers no matter how weird. ...With the exception of Granger, of course.

He turned to Christina. Her eyes were rimmed with smoky black eyeliner and her lips were a startling shade of red. She said hello politely and shook his hand as well, but with less sex appeal. He immediately decided that he liked her better despite her excessive makeup.

Hermione cleared her throat and explained, "Draco is staying with me for the next week because his parents are out of town and our school is closed as well. I thought it would be nice for him to meet some new people while he was at it. Since I'm working, I thought he'd be better off with you two, rather than stay at my place for the next couple hours, considering my parents are out. Wouldn't want you to be lonely, would we Draco?" she asked him innocently. If he didn't know her better, he would think that she was being genuine, but he was smarter than that.

He smiled at her but she could see the irritation in his eyes. "No we wouldn't," purred Alicia again as she patted the vinyl beside her. Draco slid uneasily into the booth beside her.

"Draco, can I leave my purse with you for now? You won't have to carry it anywhere." She assured him. He took in her expression. She was serious. She wasn't trying to get him to look like a fool while he carried around a lady's purse. He nodded.

He went to grab for the purse but Hermione bent low and whispered in his ear threateningly. "I know exactly how much money is in my wallet, and I know everything there is in that bag. Is that clear?"

That was the Hermione he knew. He smirked at her. "Promise,"

"Good. Well, you three have fun. Behave," she looked directly at Alicia when she said that.

Malfoy watched as she walked off in the direction of other customers. "So," Christina said. "You and 'Mione go to the same school, eh?"

"Yep," he said.

"So are you guys like, dating?"

"Grange—Hermione? No way. No. We're not even friends," he explained in a slightly disgusted tone. Both of them looked at him as if he had blue hair.

"Then why are you staying at her house alone?" Alicia asked. She had a dumb-sounding voice, like that of a stereotypical cheerleader.

"She told you," he told them. "School's closed, my parents are out of town and don't trust me by myself so I have to stay with her. I was matched up to live with her as a punishment."

Christina looked at him doubtfully. Suddenly Alicia piped up. "Hey. Let's get out of here. A new bar just opened up down the street."

"Yeah!" Christina said. "I hear it's really good,"

"Uhm..." trailed Draco. Hermione was expecting him to stay around Emanon while she finished work, but since when was she the boss of him? _Since you threw that firework at her,_ a small voice said in the back of his head. "Isn't it like, ten in the morning though?"

"That's the cool thing, though." Explained the black-haired girl.

"Yeah, it's for the hard-core partiers who don't think there's enough time in the night to party." Added Alicia.

"Fine," Draco decided he needed some fun if we were going to be spending the next week with Hermione. "But only if one of you carries her purse." He held up the grey messenger bag. Thankfully Christina was the one to grab it. He didn't know if he should trust Alicia just yet. The three of them stood up from the booth and scuttled out of the restaurant without a backwards glance.

Alicia walked up to the side of the sidewalk and raised her hand. A yellow vehicle stopped beside her. It read 'taxi'. Draco wondered what a taxi was as he hopped into the car. It smelled of cigarette smoke and old leather. The driver sat behind a Plexiglas window with a ragged hat perched atop his head.

While Alicia directed the driver to the right location, Malfoy took in the scenery of downtown London. Buildings rose up into the sky everywhere he looked. He had only been in London a few times for trips to certain wizarding shops that weren't in Diagon Alley. The Malfoy Manor was in a secluded part of England, way out in the country. It didn't bother him that he was so disconnected from the world most of the time because of the Floo network his mother had installed long before he was born.

The taxi came to a halt in front of a run-down looking building. He was surprised at the short length of the drive. He expected one of them to pay the man but instead, the red-headed girl leaned through the open window, giving him a clear view down her low-cut shirt. She whispered something in his ear that caused him to smile and flush. She walked away from the taxi and toward Christina and Malfoy. Alicia winked at both of them and they walked towards the growing line of people.

He heard the thumping bass of music coming from within the club. Draco thought it was crazy that he was standing with two Muggles and about to go into a bar at ten in the morning.

None of them said anything to each other as the line slowly inched forwards. He took in the sight of all the scantily clad girls and rough-looking men. Draco stood out like a sore thumb with his pristine white button down shirt and casual black jeans.

The other guys wore leather jackets with ripped jeans and sneakers. Girls like Alicia and Christina fit right in with all the others. While some were dressed in tight denim shorts, others wore micro-minis that just barely covered their butts despite the chilly weather. Almost all of them were wearing some sort of heel.

He spotted a pair of scarlet strappy sandals and was reminded of Granger back at Enamon's.

Finally, they reached the entrance of the bar. The smell of alcohol, smoke and sweat filled Draco's nostrils. The bouncer gave the girls a once over and then removed the velvet rope separating them from the outside world and the rave.

**feel free to review! (: and thanks for reading!**


	2. Clubbing, anyone?

They all entered the building at once and took in the scene before them. To their left was a mostly-obscured bar with rows and rows of liquor behind the counter. A few closets deemed private sat opposite of the party-goers. In the middle of the massive room was one of the largest crowds of people Malfoy had ever seen. It looked like one big pulsating cloud.

A rainbow of colored lights hung from the black ceiling; everything was black with the exception of the crowd and lights. As the crowd shifted he got a glimpse of the DJ table.

The man operating the music had long dreadlocks that hung past his shoulders. From what Draco could see, he had dark, tanned skin.

Suddenly Draco felt a tug on this arm. He turned to face Christina and Alicia. Alicia hadn't lost the sexual look in her eyes, but what surprised him the most was that Christina had taken to having the same look in her dark-rimmed eyes, as well.

He smiled shyly at them before he was dragged into the heart of the rave. Gyrating bodies pressed against him from every angle. The girls were starting to dance in front of him. He bobbed his head to the music before joining in.

Draco wasn't much of a hard-core partier but he knew how to move. Two or three years back, one of the teachers had implemented a dance/club kind of thing at Hogwarts not unlike this one. It was meant to take their minds off You-Know-Who and other stressful things like exams. He had picked up a few moves from there.

After a couple minutes, all three of them were drenched in sweat.

Christina sauntered up to the bar as the other two watched from a secluded area.

Suddenly, he felt a manicured nail run up the length of his back. Draco jumped slightly at the unwanted contact. He could feel his eyes go shifty as they so often did when he was nervous. Muttering some incoherent excuse, he shuffled to the side and out of her reach. She was about to go for him again when Christina appeared holding three tubes of blue liquid.

He shook his head with a small smile. "No thanks," he said. He didn't trust them well enough to drink around them. He had a high alcohol tolerance level, but still.

He realized that the two girls were advancing on him. Both of their eyes flashed white to quickly that he though he must've imagined it. He felt foggy; as if someone had poured the smoke from the dance floor into his head.

"Sure," he said, reaching out for the little vial. Christina passed it to him with a coy smile on her lips. "Bottoms up," He emptied the contents of the tube into his mouth; it felt as if his whole body had exploded.

Two hours later and back at the restaurant things were slowing down. Hermione had no one to wait on so she headed over to the booth where she had left Malfoy and the girls. Now the booth occupied an elderly couple who were gazing into each other's eyes longingly.

Frowning, she returned to her post and spent her time wondering where in Merlin's name the boy had run off to.

At 2:30pm the party was as loud as ever. Draco slammed his seventh tube onto the bar table with a loud whoop.

The girls were giggling at his drunken state. He didn't even know how he had gotten so drunk. The first drink had been thrilling, but after each one he craved another. Sadly, the limit for each person was seven drinks in total, but he was still itching for another.

Instead, the girls whisked him back out onto the dance floor. He really cut loose. Unbuttoning the top buttons of his sweat-soaked shirt, he danced like he had never danced before. The beat ran through him like a second heart.

He jumped, swayed, shimmied and gyrated as if he were a whole new person.

Two pairs of female hands grabbed him and started to steer him in the direction of the closets. Even through his drunken stupor he had enough sense to know what they were planning.

He started to stop when they both turned on him, their eyes flashing white.

"Come on," they said compellingly. All thoughts of protest flew out the window as they pulled him into the dark room.

Hermione glanced at the clock. It was 3:00pm and still no sign of Draco. With a growing sense of unease she walked up to Tyra. She was one of Hermione's good friends. She had dark skin and long, wavy black hair. The girl had enough attitude to fill the Great Hall; she was also the girl who was friends with the _other_ girl Hermione was covering for.

"You know that guy I walked in here with?" she asked.

"You mean that sexy blonde one? Dang girl, how could I forget?"

Struggling to keep the disgust out of her voice, she proceeded to say, "Yeah, sure. Do you know where he went? I left him with Christina and Alicia."

"Oooh, yeah. The hookers," she clarified.

"What?" Hermione was appalled.

"Yeah. Haven't you seen them walkin' around town with their short skirts and ho-heels? I swear they jump into a new guy's car almost every day."

She realised Tyra was right.

"Tried to recruit me once; said they needed a black girl to 'spice things up'. Sick freaks..." she continued to mutter.

"Wow. Well do you know where they took him?" She was worried now.

"Yeah, actually, I do. I was serving table one when I heard them talkin' about how they was headed to the new day-bar thing."

Crap. For all she knew, they were going to trap him in a closet and sexually harass him.

"Tyra, can you do me a _huge_ favour?" Tyra looked up at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Can you cover for me while I go rescue Draco?" she asked hopefully.

She sighed. "Only if you let me borrow those hot shoes of yours," she amended, gesturing to the stilettos she was wearing. Hermione threw her arms around the girl.

"I owe you so much!" she yelled as she ran for the door.

"You betcha ass," Tyra muttered.

The girls were advancing on him, never letting their eyes unlock from his grey ones.

They walked around him slowly, sizing him up. Draco just stared at them blankly. The alcohol was really starting to take over now.

The two girls kissed him on the cheek concurrently. A shock ran through the Slytherin as their eyes broke contact. He didn't want to be here. He needed to get out!

He started to push his way through them but Alicia managed to look straight in his eyes, stopping him in his tracks.

"Come back," ordered the black haired girl behind him.

Grabbing the front of his shirt, the red-headed girls pulled him towards hers.

It felt all wrong. He tasted alcohol on her mouth along with the bitter taste of cigarettes.

Somewhere in his foggy trance he idly noticed the feeling of fingernails trailing lightly on his back. Now that Christina was touching him along with Alicia, he didn't need eye contact to be stuck under their control.

Breaking away from the kiss, both of them traced their fingers along his Quidditch-toned chest, stopping just above his silver belt buckle.

Alicia had just started to undo it when a deafening crash snapped all of them abstraction.

There stood Hermione in her Emanon uniform with two body guards flanking her on either side. Draco could only see their silhouette because they were backlit by the party's lights behind them.

Draco could've collapsed with relief but he held it together, because of course, he was Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy didn't collapse with relief. He watched as the bodyguards led the scary women away from him, leaving himself face to face with Granger.

To his ultimate surprise she threw himself into his unsuspecting arms. Aware that we was still very drunk and could use that as an excuse later, he wrapped his arms around the bushy-haired know-it-all silently thanking whomever for saving him from eternal embarrassment.

Hermione threw Draco into the back of the cab with ease. Despite her thin frame, she was actually quite strong. She gave the cabbie her address and prayed with all her might that Malfoy wouldn't throw up.

"You have nice legs," blurted Malfoy drunkenly. He giggled before letting out a huge belch. Now it was her turn to keep down her food.

"Draco, you're drunker than Hagrid was when he bought that dragon egg, so keep your thoughts to yourself until you're sober enough to actually _have_ coherent thoughts." She smacked her hand over her mouth. She had totally forgotten the presence of the Muggle who was driving the cab.

He chuckled good-naturedly.

"Seems like you are too, miss," Relief washed over her. Sometimes they were so oblivious.

Suddenly Draco made a retching noise. His face was light green in the midday sun. The taxi-driver looked at him worriedly through the review mirror. Hermione could tell from his expression that he was more concerned about his precious car than he was Malfoy's health.

Thankfully, they were just minutes away from her house. Also thankfully, Malfoy hadn't thrown up. There wasn't anything in his stomach _to_ throw up.

They both sat in silence as they drove around town. After another five minutes of dead air and worried looks from the cabbie, they arrived at her quaint little home.

She thanked the man profusely before handing him a wad of bills. Then, pulling the drunken boy out of the car, she kicked the yellow door closed behind her.

Half carrying, half-pulling Malfoy up the driveway, she couldn't help but smile. She could hardly wait to share this story with Ron and Harry.

Draco started to make some noises of protest so Hermione carefully settled him on his feet. Grunting about how he could walk himself up, he pushed past her roughly. She laughed at his disgruntled-ness. iThe/i Draco Malfoy, drunk, sweaty and disgruntled stumbling into the home of Hermione Granger was quite a sight.

She unlocked the door and ordered him to go upstairs and change into something comfier and less sweaty.

While he was doing so, she removed the stilettos and went in search of a bucket.

Minutes later, Draco was dressed in the same Slytherin hoodie and grey sweatpants. One hand perched on the bucket beside him and the other resting on the bottle of aspirin, Hermione couldn't help but notice how awful he looked.

Dark shadows stood out against his pale skin, and his hair which was usually artfully dishevelled just looked plain messed up, now.

"How're you feeling?" she said.

"Like I fell off my broom and then a bunch of Hippogriffs trampled over me." Clearly, he was still intoxicated.

"Well are you hungry?"

"Merlin, no," And as if to reinforce this answer, he promptly threw up into the bucket beside him. Hermione averted her eyes in fear of throwing up, herself.

"Go empty that," she commanded. She didn't need a bucket of vomit sitting in her living room.

With a groan he heaved himself up off the couch, taking the bucket with him.

While he rinsed and flushed she stood up and walked into the kitchen intent on making a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich.

Draco came back into the room looking more agitated than ever. Hermione sank into the couch opposite of him. Grabbing the TV remote, she flicked the television onto the music channel.

All traces of sickness gone, Malfoy stared at the TV as if it were Merlin himself.

"What is _that_?"

"I told you before; it's a television."

"Huh?"

"It plays shows at certain times of the day. Like mini-plays," That was the best way for her to describe it to a pure-blood.

He nodded, abruptly disinterested. Tossing the clean bucket to the side, he grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch and settled himself into a more comfortable position. His eyelids drooped.

"Hey, if you're gonna fall asleep, head upstairs." He moaned. "I refuse to carry you up the stairs."

With a massive effort he managed to collect himself enough to trudge up the stairs. Granger trailed behind him with all his essentials in hand.

As soon as his sickly face hit the pillow, he appeared to be out like a light.

She sang quietly to herself as she laid the bucket, aspirin and a glass of water on the small bedside table. Satisfied she turned to leave the room.

"I like your singing," Draco said before dropping back off into a drunken slumber.

Malfoy woke the next day with a dreadful headache, feeling disgusting and dirty. He looked at the clock. It was 10:00pm. He sat up quickly and his stomach lurched. Gratefully, he hadn't eaten anything since the day-bar.

He groaned. That wasn't going to look good on the family name.

Taking a swig of water, he downed an aspirin or two. Looking out the window he saw that is was raining. He had always loved rainy weather.

He assumed Granger was asleep so he peeled off both his hoodie and t-shirt and threw them to the floor.

The house was quiet with the exception of the gentle sound of rain coming from outside.

Continuing into the living room he couldn't help but wonder what had happened at the club. The combination of drinks and the girls' stares made it almost impossible to remember anything.

A loud rumble came from his stomach. He frowned and headed into the kitchen.

A sharp gasp came from the corner of the room, followed closely by the sound of glass shattering. The room filled with light causing Malfoy to squint at the sudden change in lighting. He found himself face to face with a dishevelled Hermione.

Resting at her feet was the cup of tea she had been holding.

"Might want to clean that up," he advised, gesturing to the broken ceramic laying in a puddle of pink liquid. She shot him her best glare.

"Upstairs, in my room, left hand drawer of my desk. Grab the rag."

"Why do you have a r-?"

"Go." She commanded.

Abandoning any attempts at fighting with Granger, he trudged back up the stairs he had just descended. He hastily threw on a shirt from his room before heading into hers. He flicked on the light.

Books looked at him from every angle. A black shelf ran all the way around her room. The walls were painted a light grey-purple except for the north-most wall which was covered ceiling to floor in a combination of Muggle and wizard photos, magazine clippings and other things of the like.

An average sized bed sat in the corner, obscured by six or seven books and a poufy red comforter. It suited her, he thought. Remembering his mission, he turned to the black desk. It was littered with quills, parchment and of course books. He pulled open the drawer; a small amount of magical items rested there. He found the cloth almost immediately.

He was about to close the drawer when he spotted a light blue notebook. He glanced into the hallway before cracking it open to a random page.

_"i... the sun glinted off his battle-armour. He finally lifted off his helmet to reveal a face like no other. Brown wavy hair cascaded down in waves—/i"_

"Hurry up!" she yelled from the kitchen.

Slamming the book shut, he shoved it back into its home. He couldn't believe it; Hermione Granger wrote romance tales! At least, from was he read she did.

Grinning to himself, he practically skipped back into the kitchen rag in hand. He tossed it to her.

"What are you smirking at?"

"Oh, nothing. Why did you want that ratty old thing, anyways?" he asked, gesturing to the limp piece of grey cloth in her small hand.

"I enchanted it awhile back. Soaks up anything you need it to and since I'm not quite in the mood to scrub a stain off the floor, I figured now would be the time to put it to good use." She explained.

"But it's Muggle week," he felt the need to point out. She stood up.

"Oh, so you want to clean it then?"

"Don't be stupid, Granger; I was just saying."

"Well next time, don't." She snapped as she placed the rag over the spill. She removed it, exposing a tea-and-glass free floor. Satisfied, she threw the rag onto the counter.

"Now what?" asked Draco.

"Well, I'm going to make myself some more tea and you are free to do whatever your little heart desires."

"Jeeze, Granger. You seem a little hostile tonight." He observed with mock concern. He smirked broadly as he leaned on the counter beside her. She turned to him, her expression exasperated and sarcastic.

"Hm, I wonder why Draco? I'm stuck practically babysitting you for the next week and you decide to run off with two hookers to a bar and get drunk. And let me tell you, are not a fun drunk-buddy to have around. Going off into secluded closets with two girls you just met, like the idiot you are. Not to mention that it was only _two thirty in the afternoon._" She took a big breath and continued on her rant. "And the blurting out of random, inappropriate compliments at me while in the cab-"

He cut her off. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, back it up there, know-it-all. Why—of all people—would I be complimenting _you_?"

"Because apparently I have nice legs," she snapped before exiting the kitchen and stepping out onto the porch, door slamming behind her and tea forgotten.

He frowned thoughtfully before nodding his head. If she wasn't Hermione—the Living Library and queen of know-it-all's—he could accept that.

Out on the porch, Hermione sat on the weathered deck chair under and old umbrella and revelled in the smells and sounds of the rain. What a mega-twat to get stuck with. King of arrogant bastards of all people.

The door creaked behind her. _Speak of the devil,_ she thought.

"Granger,"

She turned to face the blonde boy.

"Malfoy," she countered in the same insulting tone.

"Know-it-all," He moved towards her. She rose from her chair. They were both standing in the oncoming rain.

"Ferret face,"

"Mudblood," He had expected to get some sort of reaction from her but got nothing.

"Arrogant bastard,"

"Bucktooth,"

With each insult they moved closer together. Their faces were dangerously close.

"Just wait until everyone hears that the great Draco Malfoy got drunk and seduced by two cheap prostitutes at a Muggle bar in a closet," She threatened with a smile.

"And wait 'till they hear that the feminist and boyfriend-virgin—literally—writes smutty romance stories in her little blue notebook in her spare time." Okay, so they weren't smutty, but whatever.

She gasped loudly, stepping back from Malfoy as if he had hit her.

"How did you-?"

"Might want to be a little more careful about where you leave your notebooks next time, Granger." And with that, he stepped back into the house leaving a stunned Hermione out in the pouring rain.


	3. Secrets

**[herpderp, not my best, guys. sorry. but thank you all for reading my story, reviewing it and adding it to your alert list! that's really cool! i can tell i'm not the best writer, but i would appreciate it if you could give me some feedback in the reviews so i can improve! let me know if it's too repetitive, because i feel like that's where i suck the most. (: well, here it is! enjoy!]**

**disclaimer: i, unfortunately, do not own Harry Potter, the series itself or any of it's inhabitants. i am not claiming to own the series or any of the characters. i am merely using them to improve my writing and creativity. i only own the plot of this story, which i wrote myself. (:**

Two days later, Draco swaggered into the kitchen where Hermione was fixing herself a drink.

"Good morning, Mudblood." He said cruelly. He waited for some sort of response from the girl, but no such thing happened. She turned and he watched as her eyes swept passed him as if he were merely another kitchen chair.

She walked into the living room without a word. He was irritated. Draco Malfoy would not be ignored by some Muggle-born know-it-all.

"I said, good morning, Mudblood." He repeated loudly. No response. She seemed to be immersed in the strange television device.

Placing himself in front of the box, he watched as she continued to stare right past him as if he wasn't there. The Gryffindor grabbed a smaller looking black box and pointed it at him. He looked at her in confusion.

"Are you going to try and hex me out of the way with that?" he asked incredulously. She was off her nut. That wasn't even a wand!

Instead, she pressed a button and the sound coming from the TV ceased. The couch creaked as she got up. Without a stitch of emotion, she walked calmly up the stairs and into her room. Draco followed.

He was about to cross the threshold when she spoke.

"Come in here, and you'll be leaving with one less body part." Her voice was quiet, deadly.

"Good morning to you, too. I had a fabulous sleep, thank you very much." He said sarcastically.

"Leave."

He leaned causally on the doorway, crossing his arms.

"And what if I don't want to?"

"You will if you want to keep all of your... anatomy, intact." She said 'anatomy' in a suggestive way.

Amused, he straightened up and put his hands in the air as a form of placation.

"That's true. I _would _prefer it if you stayed away from my anatomy."

Her face flushing from hairline to chin, she spat "Don't be sick. Keep your anatomy to yourself."

"Hey, it's okay, Granger, I understand. Most girls want my anatomy, so you're not alone. Whereas, I wouldn't mind if _they _got at it, but if you get within ten feet of my-"

"i_Shut up!/i" _yelled Hermione, "Keep your filthy mouth shut, you arrogant, pretentious, self-absorbed prat. No one wants to hear that! And I hate to burst your egotistical bubble, but not every girl you meet wants to shag you!" She finished and took a deep breath. Her anger seemed to have deflated. "Now go do your hair or something." She said wearily. "We have a lot of work to do today."

"Temper, temper." He said, but he left without another word. If he went any further, she would never talk to him again and then who would he piss off? Potty? No, he was too level-headed to snap back at him. Weasel? No way. His best comebacks were 'Shove off, Malfoy.' and 'Ferret-face,'

He walked into the small bathroom that accompanied his guest room. He glanced at his reflection, doing a double take. His white-blond hair hung in lank strips down the side of his angular face.

Shadows hung to the delicate skin under his eyes, giving him the appearance of a vampire.

His lips were still red and bruised from the other day's events. With a sneaking suspicion he quickly lifted his soft shirt over his head.

Light pink marks were mapped out along his chest and back. He vaguely remembered the two girls trailing their fingernails along his skin, but he didn't think that they'd been doing it that hard. As he continued to examine himself further, he noticed that his eyes seemed bright and excited.

Confusion swept through him. His eyes had never looked like that. Instead of the shallow, dark, stormy grey eyes that were like those of a snake, bright flashing ones looked back. Like the gleaming silver of a sword.

His hair whipped back and forth as he shook his head, trying to clear the unsettling thoughts that cluttered his mind. He stepped into the shower and let the hot water envelop him.

_Twat_, thought Hermione. The arrogant bastard. Who did he think he was? Pawing through her belongings, throwing commands at her like she was some sort of slave. And not to mention the perverted assumptions he'd been giving just half an hour earlier. She feigned throwing up at the thought of shagging Draco Malfoy. She shuddered violently. _Sure_, said a sarcastic voice in the back of her head.

_I am not a slag, nor do I fancy_ Malfoy, she spat back at the voice, revolted.

Just then, the devilish Slytherin walked into the library where Hermione was conveniently sitting on the window seat, staring out at the relentless rain.

"... Like me who have no love which this wild rain, has not dissolved except the love of death, if love it be towards what is perfect and cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint." He recited under his breath.

"What?" asked Hermione, turning away from the storm.

"Nothing," he said quickly, embarrassed that he'd heard her.

"Did you just recite Edward Thomas?" she asked.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't." Answered Draco evasively.

"He's a Muggle poet."

"Really?" mock surprise colored his tone. "I had no idea!"

"Screw off, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes and looked back out at the water. It was amazing, rain. Most of the time the biggest storms came from the whitest of clouds, like the evil twin of a seemingly perfect sibling. It just went to show that the most perfect looking of things could secretly have a storm of emotions brewing steadily behind the facade, just waiting for the perfect moment to release.

The small sound of cushions sinking under pressure brought her back to reality. Sitting directly across from her was Draco, staring out at the same storm as she. He didn't notice her looking at him so she took the chance to study his face a little. Relaxed and without hostility he was a completely different person. Physically, of course.

His strong jaw stood out prominently, casting a shadow onto his pale neck. Two hickeys were placed just below his jaw. Angular and sharp cheekbones also casted shadows just as the rest of his features did. A straight and finely-boned nose protruded from the rest of his face. His pale blonde hair was gelled back lightly, with a few stray strands loose, framing his face.

_Stop it!_ She mentally slapped herself. _Draco Malfoy is _not _attractive. _

_Yes he is, _said a small voice in the back of her head.

"No," she whispered aloud. When she realised that she had spoken out loud, she clapped a small hand to her mouth.

He turned to face her with his grey eyes, reminiscent of the storm raging on outside.

"What?"

"Nothing, I just—No. Nothing. I said nothing."

He chuckled lightly. "Whatever, Granger. Keep on talking to yourself. No one else is listening."

"Shut up, Malfoy. No one asked for your input."

"As much fun as it would be to stay here and bicker with you all day, I thought you said that we had work to do."

"Wow. You really don't want to talk to me, do you?"

"No, I really don't. Now what are we going to do?"

Now she was in business mode. "Well, you've completed four out of the seven requirements so we're going to finish those today. They shouldn't take too long, I would imagine."

"I don't even remember the list. What was on it that I haven't done yet?"

She sat up straighter and recited: "You must cook a meal without magical tools, do a bit of housework and make a phone call. Simple enough,"

Malfoy was confused. "What is a... phone call?" he asked the word unfamiliar on his tongue.

"Like, sending an owl, I suppose." She tried to clarify. "Surely you know what a phone call is."

He shook his head.

She threw her head back and laughed at his confused expression. "Oh darling Draco, how little you know about the Muggle world."

He sneered. "Don't call me 'darling.'" Snapped Draco.

"Sure thing... Darling." Hermione called from the other side of the library. "Now come along, little one; we have work to do."

"This," Hermione said, extending her hand "is a mop. Now, see that bucket? In it is hot water and soap. Dip the mop in the bucket, wring it out and wipe down the floor."

"Why can't you do it first?"

"Because if I did, you'd keep complaining about how you didn't understand and then I'd keep repeating the movement until there was nothing to do." Said the girl confidently. Seven years of dealing with Draco hadn't taught her to be stupid.

"Fast learner." He muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Cast turner." He said just to shut her up. He stuck out his tongue slightly as he dipped the mop in the lemon-scented liquid. The water made wet sloshing sounds as he pulled out the mop. Wringing out the fabric, he began to wipe the floor. It was surprisingly easy.

"Wow. I thought this was going to be a horrendous job. No wonder we don't pay the house elves. This is effortless."

"Ugh,"

"Still keeping up with SPEW, eh, Granger?" The floor was getting cleaner with each swipe of the mop.

"For the last time, it is not SPEW. It is-"

"Oh, potato, potah-to,"

"Close your mouth and mop, Ferret."

"Just admit it, Granger. You like to see me sweat. I've told you once and I'll tell you again, _you're not alone_. People all over the world find me attractive. You don't have to hide it any longer."

She stared directly into his stormy eyes. "You are not attractive."

"Lies. But I can truthfully tell you that _you _are not attractive. Whatsoever,"

Hermione stood up roughly, causing the chair to clatter behind her noisily.

"Dammit, Malfoy! Just shut up, would you? Don't you know how to just _shut up_? I'm surprised your Dad didn't teach you how to. Actually, no! I'm not surprised that he didn't teach you that! Along with how to be respectful! You're just like your father, Malfoy. Just like him."

His eyes blazed with a malevolent ferocity. He walked slowly and deliberately up to the bushy-haired Gryffindor before him. Their noses almost touching, he spoke in a deadly calm voice.

"_Don't you _ever _tell me that I am like my father, ever again. _Do you hear me, Mudblood? I am _nothing _like him."

His calm facade shattered before her very eyes. Like the pristine cloud keeping a storm locked up behind it.

"I AM NOTHING LIKE HIM! He was an abuser, and a liar, and a killer, and a cheater. He was a coward! Do you know how it feels to be threatened by the Dark Lord himself, Mudblood? Huh? Do you? No! You bloody well don't! Do you know how it feels to be _Cruciatused _every other moment of the day? To lie in your own bed, in your own home and be terrified of your own goddamned father?

You have it good, Granger. You have it bloody well good. I don't have any real friends, because everyone was terrified of me! They thought I was a Death Eater. _I was never a Death Eater. _I faked it! There, it's out! I fricking faked it! I used a charm to fake my way out a painful, dragged out death. And guess who held that death over my head? _My own father_. He hit my mother, he tortured her, and he abused her, and did all the same to me twice as often. I will _never _be like my father."

He raised a hand to push back his hair, and watched as Hermione flinched violently away from him. All the while he was screaming he never did once register the girl's expression.

She was frozen in her spot, eyes wide and lips trembling with fear. A single tear found its way from her eye and down her cheek.

He took a step towards her, hand slightly outstretched.

"Granger, I-"

"Stop," her voice was shaking, but it was still powerful.

"I wouldn't... I wouldn't have hurt you..." he murmured. "I wouldn't..."

"Have you forgotten about _me, _Malfoy? What about me? Half of those things you listed, I _have _experienced. I _have _experienced the Cruciatus curse. I _have _been threatened by the Dark Lord himself. And while I have never lied in my own bed, in my own home and been terrified of my own father, I have been terrified by plenty of other things. I have _two _friends, mind you, and ninety percent of the time we can never actually talk because of Voldemort! Again, I have never had to fake being a Death Eater, but I was threatened just as you were, Malfoy. I _have _been hit by a man, I have _been _tortured by a man, and I _have _been abused by a man, but that man was never my father. You weren't the only one involved in that war, Draco. There were plenty others."

After a few moments of dead air, Draco asked, "Who?"

"What?" she asked incredulously. After all of that, all he had to say was 'who'?

"Who hit you?" he asked again quietly.

She swallowed loudly. Never in her life had she ever told anyone about that. Not Harry, not Ron, not even her parents. If she were to tell anyone, it would've been someone she trusted. She certainly did not trust Draco Malfoy.

"Krum." She whispered hoarsely, going against her own will. He had shared his stories with her, so why not she him?

He closed his eyes.

"Granger-"

"Call me Hermione."

His eyes opened. "What?"

"I said, call me Hermione. And I will call you Draco."

"Her... Hermione," the word was strange on his lips. "I'm sorry. I—I will never know personally, but I saw how it affected my mother... I- I would never wish that on someone. Not even you."

"Let's go sit somewhere else," she suggested gently. Mop and bucket abandoned, they headed into the library. They both sat opposite one another on the soft window seat.

"Dra-"

"Herm-" They both started.

"Go ahead, Draco."

He shook his head sadly and blinked. "How did he—why? What did he _do_?"

"You first," she whispered.

He took a shaky breath. He'd never told anyone about his struggles. He was a Malfoy. Strong, brave, stone faced. The only emotion he'd ever shared was anger. The thought of speaking his pain made him feel as exposed as he would've if he were standing in front of her naked. But he knew that if Granger was anything, she wasn't judgemental like Pansy was.

"Only if you tell me after," he proposed, looking up at her through his eyelashes.

"Okay," she whispered.

"There's nothing to say, really. He did everything I said he did. There was this one time where I told him that I wasn't interested in inhabiting the Malfoy Manner when he passed, and I got the Cruciatus for over an hour."

She shuddered violently, remembering her five minutes under the curse and trying to multiply it by twelve.

"The only reason he didn't kill me right then and there was because I was needed. That was the year I almost killed Dumbledore." He choked slightly over the words.

She reached out hesitantly and put a hand on his knee. "But you didn't."

"But I was so close." He looked near tears. Inside Hermione's head, alarms were going off. Draco wasn't quiet! Draco wasn't remorseful! Draco was not supposed to cry! And she was not supposed to be calling him Draco!

"But you didn't," she repeated.

"There was another time. H-he brought me into the dungeon while I was unconscious and chained me to the wall. I can't even remember what I had said, but it must have been awful. I was down there for almost six days. No food, no water: just the company of him every other day. I was Cruciatused, cursed, and a whole bunch of other seriously dark magic."

"Where was your mum?" Hermione asked gently.

"In the cell next to me," his face hardened into the mask of pure hatred. No teenage boy should've been able to make such a face.

"I heard everything he did to her. Every word, every sound. He hit her, and kicked her and raped her and cursed her and-"

He broke off as he caught sight of Hermione. Her face was a stark mask of white, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning from outside.

"Are you okay, G- Hermione?"

"Fine," she said quickly.

"So, that was basically my life for eighteen years. Him getting thrown into Azkaban was the best thing that ever happened to me. Now I don't have to live in fear all the time..."

Silence. Strangely, he felt as if a humongous weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He was always convinced that if he told _anyone -_much less Hermione- he would feel ten times worse. It was the total opposite. He could see the understanding in her brown eyes. Tears were there, too.

"Your turn," he whispered hoarsely.

Taking a deep shuddering breath, she started. "I- I've never told anyone this, Draco."

"Not even Potter or Weasley?"

"Not even them."

"Well, you don't have to, I mean-"

"Shut up." A ghost of a smile lingered on her pink lips.

"After the Yule Ball, we went outside for some air. We just talked for awhile until he suggested that we went down to Hogs Head. I asked him why we weren't going to the Three Broomsticks, and he just said they had better fire whisky.

So we got there, and it was pretty dodgy. There were a bunch of old crack pots looking at me and one even grabbed me, kind of. We were in there for an hour or two, and by then Krum was _drunk. _Like, drunker than you were." She said with a small smile.

"He started t-to kiss me, and I of course, returned the favour. I wasn't actually all that fond of him. I just went out with him to spite Ron, really. Anyways, he started... touching me. A-and I told him to get off because people were starting t-to look, but he wouldn't. I kicked him hard and started off for the door. I w-was halfway down the road when I felt h-him grab me. H-he told me that I-I'd embarrassed him in front of his 'friends' and that he didn't like that. H-he... he _c- cruciatused _me for a few minutes, so I was weak. I fell unconscious, and when I woke up, we were in the shrieking shack. H-he'd silenced me with a charm, s-so... so n-no one could h-hear me."

A small sob found its way out of her throat.

"He k-kicked me, a-and hit me and then... and then-"

She started to cry. Softly, but the sobs racked her roughly. Within a matter of seconds she was able to pull herself together. Malfoy sat opposite her looking almost _sorry_.

"Hermione," he started.

"No, Draco. I didn't tell you so you could feel sorry me. You told me your story and I told you mine. That's all there is to it."

Shaking his head, he said, "Let's call a truce."

Hermione stared at him. A giggle escaped. Then another. More. She was full out guffawing now. Tears streamed down her face, whether from laughing or her story, she wasn't sure. She couldn't stop. She was on the edge of hysteria.

Draco watched her with a strange fascination. Then he started to join in. They were laughing, giggling, chortling, guffawing and everything in between.

If anyone from Hogwarts were to walk in that very moment, they would've thought that they were dreaming. The Slytherin King and the Gryffindor Queen conversing without hostility, much less laughing their faces off.

Eventually they came to a stop. Hermione held out her hand and he eyed it speculatively.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" he said, not unkindly.

"Shake it, smartass!" but her words were civil as well.

He grabbed her little hand in his large one and shook it twice before letting it drop.

"What was that for, exactly? What did I just agree to?"

"A truce for the last two days that you're here, of course. All we've done it fight and I think we both deserve some light hearted fun. No more dark stuff. The war's over! There's nothing to worry about anymore." She smiled hopefully at him. He smiled back minutely.

"A truce..." he mused. "But as soon as we return, it's back to full fledged insults?"

"And hexes galore," confirmed Hermione.

"Deal,"

"Well let's go then!" She stood up, shaking out her stiff muscles.

"Go where?"

"I don't know. Somewhere! We've got all day!"

"You're a little crazy, Gran—Hermione."

"Tell me something I don't know."

And with that, they stepped out of the door and into her little blue car.

"Hey look, the storm stopped." She observed.

"Yeah." Agreed Draco. "It has."

**so, what do you think? sorry it's short, this time. let me know how i did in the reviews! i love them. (: 3 -shamelessplugging.-**


	4. On your mark

**[A/N hey guys! i just wanted to thank everyone for adding my story to your watchers list and favorites! it means a lot to me! well, enjoy!]**

"You want me to _what_?" asked Draco.

They were sitting in a rain-dampened parking lot devoid of any sort of civilization. Hermione sat in the driver's seat of her small, worn out car. Her hands rested lightly on the black steering wheel.

"Drive. I want you to drive. There's no one here, and there's not much to crash into, so I can assume my precious car will stay unharmed."

"And we can't do anything else?"

"Well, we could've, but it's just rained so there's not much choice." She confessed. "Besides, it'll be fun to see you drive."

He scoffed. "It's always fun to see me."

"Mm... nope; it's actually not."

"Well, what if I don't want to drive your car?" Cheeky little bastard.

"Then I guess we can go finish our Muggle Week requirements..."

"I would rather go through another car wash than do my laundry without a wand."

"We could make that happen."

"On second thought..." he started.

"On second thought," Hermione echoed, "How about we just drive?"

"Isn't that what you were trying to make me do in the first place?" His pale brows were knitted in confusion and scepticism.

"Well, yes, but I have a better idea."

"Pray tell, Mud-"

Abruptly, she whipped her head around in a flash of curly brown hair. Brown met grey as their eyes locked.

"Don't. Call. Me. Mudblood."

He leaned forward so their noses were almost touching. Then in a deadly whisper, "Mudblood,"

A loud smack resounded through the car as Draco's head collided with the dashboard wiping the smirk off his pale face.

Hermione had pumped the gas on her car and released it in a moment, causing the unprepared Slytherin to jerk forward. A red mark was already forming on his forehead.

"Bitch," he said as her rubbed at the spot.

"Excuse me?" she asked, her foot poised dangerously over the gas pedal. "Are we forgetting who's driving here? I could leave you and your dirty mouth in the middle of nowhere on the side of a road _without magic _in a second. Let the muggers and rapists get to you. I'm sure they'd consider you quite a catch."

"I knew it." He threw his hands up in the air. "You brought me out here so you could have me all to yourself. I thought we covered this. I don't want you within a mile radius of my-"

"Draco, just shut the hell up about your male parts. It actually makes me want to vomit. Keep talking and I'll never get the mental images out of my mind. They will be forever branded into my memory."

Draco leaned back and twisted so he was half-facing her. He raised an eyebrow.

"You get mental images when I talk about-?"

"_Malfoy_ shut your un-godly, lopsided mouth."

He smiled and nodded. "That makes sense. You watch my mouth often enough to notice how it's lopsided, even though it actually isn't." A pale hand snaked up to her shoulder and patted it. "Join the—ow!"

His hand was pinned between the chair and Hermione's. It was twisted at a strange angle, palm facing up over the right side of his hand. Slowly beginning to turn reddish-purple, Hermione tightened her grip.

Before he had a chance to speak, she clapped her free hand over his mouth.

"You are a pretentious asshole." She said it very slowly as if she were explaining it to a three year-old. "And you suck at making truces. Now, I can only image that this pompous attitude is making up for something you... well, lack. 'Lack' being the operative word,"

Just as Malfoy's tongue made its way across her palm in attempts to free his mouth, a sharp rap on the window jolted both of them.

On the other side of the Mustang's window stood a policeman clad in the standard fluorescent-yellow jacket and black helmet. A dark shadow crossed his face as he looked inside the car.

Hermione snapped back to Draco and ordered, "Keep your mouth shut." She rolled down the rain-splattered window.

The whirring sound of the window being rolled down was the only sound to break the silence. "Hello, officer." She greeted him politely with a smile that she only used on strangers. "Can we help you at all?"

He cleared his throat noisily. "I was just driving through here when I saw your car parked here." He explained in a raspy voice; a smoker's voice.

A small part of Hermione's brain mentally-laughed at the thought of a smoking police officer. Screw doughnuts, I'll take the coughing and lung cancer. She fought back a smile as he continued to explain his reasoning's for stopping.

"Pretty weird that you guys were just sitting here in an abandoned parking lot. First I thought you guys might be waiting to throw a deal down, but then I noticed that there were two of you. Then I thought that maybe you were—erm, _exploring _witheach other." A slight flush rose up from the man's neck as Draco gagged and Hermione followed suit in the pantomimed action.

"No, sir, we weren't... exploring, as you put it."

"No you certainly weren't." The hard mask that all police officers seemed to carry returned, covering the earlier blush. He crossed his podgy arms. "Is there any violence going on here, today?"

"I wasn't doing anything to her-" Draco started, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but the man cut him off.

"No, my boy, I know you weren't." Malfoy didn't seem too pleased to be called 'my boy' by the round man. "It was _you _I was worried about. Was she hurting you in any way, young man?"

"No!" Yelled Hermione as Draco yelled "Yes!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I trust you, young man, for you were the one who was pinned to the chair. If you wouldn't mind stepping out of the car please, Miss,"

Her eyes widened to the point where they looked like dinner plates.

"But I wasn't-!"

"I don't want to have to use force on you ma'am, but I will if I have to. Now step out of the car."

Malfoy sat in his spot laughing silently to himself. Hermione hesitantly stepped out onto the slick pavement. Her light-blue canvas shoes squelched noisily.

"Malfoy!" Yelled Hermione, pointing viciously at the laughing boy in the car.

The officer grabbed her outstretched hand and brought it behind her back. A metallic _click-click-click_ing matched by the cool feel of metal against her wrists brought to her attention that she was being cuffed.

"But I didn't do anything!" she protested. "He was beaking off and I just covered his mouth to stop him! Look at him! He's laughing!"

Years of hiding emotions happened to work to his ability. In the blink of an eye he went from a chortling schoolboy to a stone-faced victim.

"Hermione, why would I be laughing? Do you think this is a joke for me?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"Ma'am, would you mind coming into the back of my cruiser, please? You, too, young man. I have some questions for the both of you."

"But what about my car?" asked Hermione frantically.

He pursed his lips.

"Could you please lock her car, boy?"

"Absolutely,"

The faint _beep _of the car locking echoed throughout the empty parking lot. Hermione was guided into the back of the police cruiser, her hands still cuffed uncomfortably behind her back.

The car smelled of leather and cigarette smoke. A thick Plexiglas window separated the back portion of the cruiser from the front. Papers upon papers littered the passenger seat, along with a pack of cigarettes.

The officer's face burned crimson as he flicked off the pack, but not before Hermione and Draco got a good look at them. Keeping up his pretence, Malfoy slid inside the back of the car with Hermione, but sidled up close to the door as if he was afraid of her.

Her hands were shaking. If she hadn't been restrained, it would've been third year all over again. She would get him back one way or another.

He continued to laugh silently when she attempted to turn around and give him the single-finger salute.

Instead of watching him cackle away, she turned to watch the city go by.

Buildings didn't individually stand out, but rather blended into one big rush of grey and black. The city seemed to have absorbed her mood and the rainstorm. Pedestrians walked to and fro on the crowded sidewalks. Trash bins overflowed with the days load and puddles reflected the height of the blurred buildings.

A good ten minutes passed before they arrived at the station. Rows upon rows of police cars, not unlike the one she was currently seated in, sat in the lot in front of the bleak building. A few stray officers sat outside in dreary chairs with a box of doughnuts between them.

_Of course, _scoffed Hermione mentally.

She was led by the arm, none too gently, into the station. To her right was another Plexiglas window featuring many different scary looking people, all of whom were in handcuffs like her.

Unwillingly her heart began to beat faster. _Are they going to put me in there, too? _She worried.

A girl looked up at her through the thick window and directly into her brown eyes. The strangers black hair was matted and tangled atop her head. Cuts and bruises swelled on her pallor face. Black makeup streaks ran from her sorrowful eyes down to her jaw line. Her eyes lit up only to see that it wasn't who she was looking for, causing her to look dejectedly back down at the floor.

On the opposite side of the chamber was a huge man. Easily three heads taller than her sitting down, his arms were comparable to those of a champion body builder. Lank, greasy hair hung down the sides of his face, the same color as his scraggly beard.

His eyes pierced through Hermione, causing her to gasp aloud. He smiled at her creepily, revealing two rows of disgusting teeth.

She looked away from the frightening man in search of somewhere else to look. Unfortunately her gaze happened to land on that of Draco's.

He smiled grandly at her behind the officer's back.

She returned his smile with a threatening one of her own.

"Just you wait," she mouthed. Shaking her head slowly with the smile still on her face, she watched in delight as his grin faltered if only for a moment.

They were being led into a cold, grey room. A single fluorescent light flickered overhead. Hermione shivered at the cold atmosphere of the room.

She was placed in a metal chair next to Malfoy who was in another, comfier looking chair.

There was a desk opposite of the pair with a cracked leather office chair. The chair was empty.

At that precise moment, a loud clacking suggested that a high-heeled woman was entering the room. Unable to get a good look at her face, the two watched a swirl of perfume and black cloth pass them and settle into the chair.

Hermione silently thanked Godric. A woman she could deal with. Surely she could understand annoying men.

The faceless lady sat down in the chair, earning a small squeak from the piece of furniture. Hermione tried her best to keep her face emotionless.

She had been expecting some sort of run-down, weathered, stick-up-her-ass woman. The female that sat behind the desk couldn't've been more different.

Long, golden locks curled around her delicate face, pinned up behind her ear on one side to show off her silver earrings. Her golden skin-tone resembled the same color as her hair. Chin ending in a delicate point, her face could've only been described as heart-shaped.

Big blue eyes sat in the center of the heart, framed by perfectly plucked brows. Her lean shoulders were covered in a short sleeved, satin blouse, the color of a sapphire stone. One or two buttons more than usual were left undone, leaving a little less to the imagination. A black high-waisted skirt highlighted her tiny waist.

Hermione instantly slumped against the hard chair. It wasn't fair. She was in law. She should have had greying hair that be permanently fixed into a tight knot at the back of her neck. Maybe a little podgy from all the sitting. Perhaps a crooked nose, too, like Snape.

Hermione turned to look at Draco. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes bright. He sub-consciously ran a nimble hand through his platinum hair. A few pieces escaped from the lightly-gelled-'do and fell to frame his face. He licked his lips. She watched as his eyes dropped from her mouth to her chest, to her mouth, to her chest and back.

Then she spoke. "Okay. So, can anyone tell me why we're here today?"

Hermione couldn't help it. She burst out laughing. The woman may have been gorgeous, but she had the voice of a Gringott's troll.

Deep, manly and scratchy, it sounded as though it had been Mr. Ollivander who had spoken, not this perfect female before them.

She whipped her head to look at the bushy-haired girl and raised an eyebrow. The Gryffindor was able to contain herself before it got even more out of control.

She snuck a glance at Malfoy. He was sitting back in his chair instead of leaning anxiously forward. His arms were crossed and instead of being silvery and bright, his eyes were dead and dull as the storm clouds that had previously been hanging over the city. Abruptly disinterested, he looked at her with the same expression as he looked at Hermione or a flobberworm.

"This is all just a big misunderstanding, Ms..." she caught sight of the nameplate. "Ms. Severus."

She choked on her own spit at the name. Her coughs were too loud. They ricocheted off the cement walls and amplified.

After regaining a normal breathing pattern, she started up again.

"Anyways, Ms. Severus, as I said this is all just a big misunderstanding. You see, Draco here was being quite inappropriate, so I felt the need to defend myself to a certain extent. I didn't even injure him!"

Ms. Severus nodded slowly before turning to Draco.

"And you?" she asked in her masculine voice.

"I was simply stating the facts of the matter when she attacked me. And yes, Hermione, you did injure me. See?"

He pushed up his left sleeve and wasn't even able to conceal the surprise that danced across his face. He stared open mouthed at his forearm.

A serpent wound itself around a hollow skull, tainting the creamy skin of his inner arm.

Hermione gasped loudly at the Dark Mark decorating his skin. Draco stood abruptly causing the chair to clatter loudly behind him. He yanked down the sleeve of his white shirt and spat,

"Drop any charges you might've had. She didn't do anything." And left the room, leaving behind a confused Ms. Severus and a stunned Hermione.

"Can you please undo my cuffs?" She whispered.

The lady took out a small silver key from the left-most drawer in her desk. With a short _click-click _her hands were free. She rubbed her wrists where the metal had cut into them.

"Thank you," she said quietly before following after Malfoy.

"Dra-!" she began to yell when she ran headlong into a seemingly solid object. "What the-"

A loud grumble came from the thing she'd just hit. Tentatively she looked up. ...Into the face of the huge, terrifying man she'd seen earlier behind the Plexiglas window.

"Watch where you're going," He growled dangerously.

The Gryffindor inside her puffed up. "Well don't just stand there, next time."

His eyes widened considerably. He took a step towards her with a malicious look on his face. Where were the police?

She vaguely saw two officers in the corner conversing in low voices unaware of the small tussle that was unfolding rapidly.

"Wanna say that again, bitch?"

"I-"

Suddenly the man's cold eyes rolled up in his head. He swayed dangerously on his feet. As if in slow motion, gravity began to take over. The huge fellow tipped over the edge of his toes and was hurtling towards Hermione. She was going to be crushed.

Just then a white hand reached out and snatched her out of the falling man's path. Hermione said nothing as she allowed Draco to pull her out of the station none too kindly. He threw her hand down violently.

"Where is your car?" he spat.

"Draco, let me see your-"

"_Where is your car, Granger_?"

"Back in the parking lot..." She said tentatively, awaiting the explosion. Draco swore colourfully in what sounded like several different languages.

"How are we supposed to get back to your house?"

"I-" then she stopped. She hadn't thought about that. The officer had driven them away leaving her car abandoned in the parking lot.

"You're of age, are you not?"

"Yeah, I'm seventeen... Eighteen in a month or two," she explained. "Why?"

"Because we're going to Disapparate to your car. I don't care if it's Muggle Week. They didn't say anything about Apparating so keep your mouth closed."

"Won't they detect us, though?"

"No, because I'm above age. Really, Hermione, you would think that even _you _would know that."

"First of all, you just called me Hermione. And second of all, I thought you were only seventeen."

"Birthday was last week. It's a shame you missed it." He said dryly. "So you're going to have to Disapparate with me." Draco didn't seem too pleased at that.

"Oh yes, quite a shame I missed it. Happy belated, all the same." She retorted. "Do you remember what my car looks like?" Hermione doubted it.

He sighed heavily as though she was holding him back. "Light blue '96 Mustang, fuzzy dice on the mirror, rust along the bottom of the doors and a chip on the front window,"

Hermione blinked at him. Impatiently he held out his left arm for her to take. She grasped his bicep lightly.

Draco chuckled softly. "Granger, you're going to get splinched if you don't hang on any tighter. Honestly, I'm not going to kill you here and now."

"But I might," she joked quietly. Her other hand wrapped itself around his forearm, where the Mark was shining through the thin material of his long sleeved shirt.

"Ready? Too bad if you're not." And with a loud _crack _they disappeared into thin air.

"Agh!"

"Hermione, what are you doing on the ground?" Malfoy looked down at the Gryffindor who was currently splayed on the wet pavement.

"I fell, you stupid prat."

"Told you. You should've held on tighter." He started to head towards the Mustang. Hermione's small hand shot out and grabbed Malfoy's leg. Unprepared, he felt hard to the ground. She pushed herself off the cement and said,

"Did I hang on tight enough for you, Malfoy?" and started to walk away. _I hope he bruised his rib or something. _

"What—oof!" She was on the ground again.

"Should've seen that one coming, Granger. I mean, really, look at—ouch!"

Her foot connected with his shoulder causing him to release his grip on her foot so he was able to cradle his kicked shoulder. She heaved herself off the ground and sprinted away from him as fast as possible.

Her short legs were no match for Draco's long ones. He caught up easily. Reaching for her wrist, he ended up grabbing her waist. His attempt to pull her down to the ground failed, causing him to just pull her towards himself instead of down.

As soon as her back made contact with his chest, she jerked an elbow backwards and caught him in the sternum. She tried to get away again, but he still maintained contact with her waist. Pulling at her sweater, he turned her around so she was looking at him.

Her face was masked with shock.

"Malfoy!"

"It's your own damn fault-"

"No, Malfoy, look!"

He followed her line of sight down to his forearm where the sleeve of his white shirt had slipped down. His bare, smooth, un-marked forearm. He released her immediately and ran his hand over the skin. Nothing. Not a scratch. Not even a freckle. Rapidly flipping his over and then back again, he continued to stare in disbelief.

Hermione unconsciously reached out to run her fingertips over his smooth arm. Realizing what she had just done, she yanked her hand back, her face flaming.

Draco didn't even seem to notice.

"What the hell?" but it sounded like a statement, not a question.

"Did we imagine it?"

He snorted. "My imagination was wiped clean from the moment I was born, Mudblood."

Instead of reacting to the cruel nickname, she shook her head.

"That's impossible."

He sighed impatiently. "I'm not saying it is possible. I don't know how the Mark got there!"

"No, no, not that! It's impossible to not have an imagination."

He squinted at her. "Granger, you're starting to sound like Loony Lovegood."

"Whatever. Can we just go home now?"

They started towards the car.

"You're parents are home tomorrow, yeah?" he asked somewhat rudely.

"No, they're not going to be here at all while you're staying." She looked glum.

"I thought they were." Inside he was secretly cheering. _Yes, yes, yes! No Muggle interactions for me! Ha, take that McGonagall!_

"Their plane got delayed for a couple days, so I won't even be able to see them." A few moments of silence passed.

"That's why I flipped at you when you started making pervy comments this morning." She explained. Then, almost inaudibly, "Sorry,"

Draco's eyes shifted back and forth. What was he supposed to say to that? _Oh yeah, sorry, too. I don't know what got into me. _Yeah, right. This was Mudblood Granger he was talking about, so instead he just said, "Mhm."

The rest of the journey home was driven in silence, interrupted every now and then with the sharp sound of a car horn or a passing ambulance.

They stepped into her warm home quietly. The light flickered on with a small buzzing sound.

"Do you know why that huge guy just kind of fell over onto me?"

To Hermione's ultimate surprise Draco actually—dare she say it?—_blushed. _

"What did you do?" she half-yelled, half-giggled.

"I _stupefied_ him." He sniffed with great dignity.

"But you don't have your wand!"

"You learn a lot when Voldemort lives in your home, Granger. That includes undetectable, wandless magic."

She remained silent, unsure of what to say to that.

"Well, thanks I guess." She said awkwardly. "It's not like the police were gonna do anything about it."

"Yeah." A smile grew from cheek to cheek on his handsome face. "But they sure as hell did when I told them you were abusing me."

To _Draco_'s ultimate surprise, she laughed. "Ms. Severus," she said simply. "Looks like you had the hots for her, didn't you Malfoy?"

His face lost the smile, getting replaced with an expression of disgust. "She sounded like Mr. Ollivander."

"That's what I was thinking! And by the way, you are _terrible _at keeping truces. Twenty minutes into it and I'm in cuffs for no reason. But don't worry," she said with a smile. "I forgive you." And patted him on the shoulder.

He had no idea what was going to come of him when they got back to Hogwarts. Hermione grinned.

**[ooh. revenge-Hermione. a little obscure, i know, but they need some more adventures before going back to school! so thanks for reading guys! don't be scared to review! takes thirty seconds! (:]**


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